


No Good Left to Give

by CaffeinatedThoughts



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Angst, Biting, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fighting, Fingering, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, Hair-pulling, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Porn with Feelings, Regret, Smut, Spencer Reid - Freeform, Spencer Reid Smut, Teasing, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Topping from the Bottom, Unprotected Sex, theres a lot of touchy-feely moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27153586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedThoughts/pseuds/CaffeinatedThoughts
Summary: All it took was one time, one night, and one chance for Reader and Reid to cross a line from which neither was sure they’d be able to return from.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 73





	1. Skin to Skin

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: @Caffeinated-Thoughts  
> Based off of the Album "No Good Left to Give" by Movements

It was just another car ride.

He was tired and he couldn’t sleep. He always gets like that after cases, and that’s what bothers me the most. Every time he gets back he gets more distant each time, as if he is stuck in his own little world that he’s constructed in his head just for himself. His own private solace. 

I didn’t even have to glance over towards the passenger’s seat to see it written all over his face. I could just feel it. That existential exhaustion from all his thoughts swarming around his mind, seeping into the cramped car air between us, silencing any attempts we’d try to make at conversation. That’s how most of our drives this late at night were. They were filled with a deafening silence, only made quiet by the hum of the engine and the occasional bumps on the road. 

That’s how they were supposed to be, and that’s how they’ll always be. 

Every time after a bad case, he would call me up, sometimes not even speaking into the phone, and I’d just know. I guess that’s what years of friendship does to you. It makes silent communication easier. With minimal words exchanged, I’d know that he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night without the drowsiness that a car ride brings on. And every time, I’d grab my keys, and head on over. 

He was always quiet whenever I took him for a drive. I guess that’s another thing that sprouts as a result of a long-term friendship. You get comfortable with each other’s silence. 

Or at least, he was comfortable with my silence. I wasn’t always with his. It was always hard to not be concerned about what goes on in that big brain of his. I mean, even though I was right next to him, it felt like he was thousands of miles away, his mind no doubt preoccupied with all the senseless acts of violence he faces day to day. How bleak the world must look to him. All the cases he works on, all that violence and gore, forcing his brain to remold the way he perceives the world and what can happen in it. To think how much more evil he must think is still out there, and he is here, powerless in the face of it all. And all he can do is just sit and watch, staring out the window as the world flashes by him, while the car tires tread onward into the night.

I know that quiet feeling all too well. That overbearing exhaustion. It’s the type of exhaustion that no amount of sleep can fix. What I wouldn’t give to alleviate him of that feeling, and all of its cousins. Fear, Loathing, Guilt, Pain.

Apathy.

They’re all related. 

And they all need more than just a night’s rest to be cured. And I feared that he would look for that cure in the wrong places, and fall back into old habits. 

Part of me wanted to break our unspoken tradition of keeping our car rides silent. I pondered over the idea for some time, passing three intersections while I weighed my options. I just needed to know that he was okay. 

“Spencer?” 

Nothing. 

Not even a general hum of acknowledgement. Just silence. I thought maybe he had fallen asleep, but he never sleeps this early on. He always tries to stay awake until we passed over the bridge. 

I used to tell him how the lights on the bridge remind me of stars. Stars that had fallen to the Earth to light up the road for our car rides. Stars that were just for us. He’d always tell me that there was no such thing, that stars can’t fall to the Earth because they’d burn up in the atmosphere. But every time we’d make it to the bridge I could see him smiling out the window, looking up at the bridge lights that were supposed to be our impossible stars. 

But tonight we didn’t drive that far, I had decided to pull over instead, which I now realize was one of the worst mistakes I had ever made. 

“Why’d you stop? We haven’t passed the bridge yet.”

It took me longer than it should have to answer back, but I couldn’t get my brain to find the right words. I turned the ignition off and pulled out the keys to buy me more time to come up with an answer. 

“I stopped because… just… are you okay?” As soon as I asked, I knew that those weren’t the right words. His face morphed into a look of betrayal before giving away to one of confusion. 

But it was too late. I saw that look of betrayal, even if it was just for a second. I had broken our pack of keeping our car rides silent. And the way he looked at me made me regret ever pulling over in the first place. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He didn’t even have the energy to bother sounding convincing, which worried me more. He turned back to face the window, waiting for the world outside to start moving again, but when I didn’t start the car he looked back.

“I said I’m fine, can we just drive home now?” I reluctantly started the engine, and turned the car around, taking the lane on the other side of the road that would lead us home. 

No stars tonight.

Another one of our traditions was that I’d always walk him up to his apartment once our little road trip was over. Usually because I’d have to wake him up by the end, and he’d be half asleep while he walked up the stairs to his place. **  
**

I guess that was another tradition that was broken tonight, because when I pulled into his place, he got out of the car immediately, not even bothering to look back, let alone say anything.

The stubbornness in me didn’t want to part like this, so I followed him up to the building, practically running to have to keep up with him. He knew I was behind him, trying to get his attention to talk to him, but he didn’t slow down any when he reached the stairs. So there I was, running up the stairs trying to call after him while the only answer he provided me was a scoff of annoyance. 

I caught up to him while he was trying to unlock the door to his apartment, but I was out of breath, and I didn’t know what else to say beside “Spencer,” to which he gave no reply. 

I didn’t care if I was out of line anymore. He clearly wasn’t okay, and I couldn’t stand to see him like that any longer. It was killing me as much as it was killing him. 

My foot caught the door before he could slam it shut, and I barged my way in. “I don’t want to hear that ‘you’re fine’ or that ‘you’re okay’ or whatever blatant lie that you come up with because you’re clearly not.”

“I didn’t invite you in.” he sighed, and turned around slamming the door shut now that my foot wasn’t in the way.

“I don’t care, I’ve invited myself in, and I’m not leaving until you talk.”

“(Y/n)… Look, I’m tired okay? I don’t want to do this now.”

“No Spencer. You always say that, and I always let you out of it. It doesn’t take a profiler to see that you’re not fine, or that you’re not okay. So don’t try to tell me that you are.”

“What do you want me to say?“

“Look, I know you’re tired okay? I know what it feels like when -”

“No you don’t! You don’t know what I see at work each day, and you don’t know what it’s like having to come home from it all, only to have to relive it all at night every single time I close my eyes!” 

I had never heard Spencer yell like that. I’ve seen him mad before. I’ve seen him angry, and I’ve even seen him at his worst, but I’ve never seen _this_. This… frustration. And I didn’t know what to say to him anymore.

“I know you’re tired but if you don’t talk about it now then you never will, and I can’t stand to see what it’s…what it’s doing to you. Just… tell me what’s wrong.” I could see him beginning to shrink into himself, almost like he was giving up. I walked up to him, and continued, but with a gentler tone. 

“Spencer, look. I’m not saying that I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. But, I do know what it’s like to isolate yourself to the point where you feel like you have to bottle up all your emotions.” 

I placed my hand on his arm, trying to soothe him before continuing. “Okay? You don’t have to keep it all locked up. Even if it’s not me that you tell. Just write it down or tell _someone_. I know it feels like you can’t handle it, or that you can’t possibly tell anyone because they wouldn’t understand but -”

Within the blink of an eye, Spencer pulled me in and kissed me, and I could barely register what was going on. _He kissed me._ Whatever point I was trying to make was completely knocked loose from my mind, never to be recovered. 

My mind was completely in shock, and my thoughts were all over the place. _What the fuck was I doing?_

It was like my body was responding with a mind of its own, and I was kissing him back. Somehow, my brain was starting to process what was happening, and reality hit me like a freight train. I pulled away from him, and we just looked at each other. Our eyes met, and I knew then, that once I’d cross this line, I wouldn’t be able to look back. And he knew it too. 

But somehow we still ended up jeopardizing our friendship, breaking another tradition, and choosing to fly across that line, like two doves finally being set free. 

I guess both our minds were tired, too exhausted to think about the consequences of anything. We just wanted each other. It was that simple. Our bodies were begging our minds to comply, and neither of us bothered fighting against it. It only took one look between us for all of it to unravel. 

My body was already buzzing at the thought of us. The thought of him and me. Even if it was just for tonight. 

Just one night. 

One night where the rest of the world could fade away, everything unimportant just a dying flame. A small, insignificant flame that was snuffed out the moment his lips crashed back into mine agin. 

I wanted nothing more than for him to tangle me in his limbs, and mark me as his, inch by inch.

And as he deepened the kiss, his hands spoke that which he was unable to put into words. He held me so close and so tightly, it was like he was afraid that I’d disappear right before him. The whole moment was overwhelming, the room was thick with heavy emotions, unspoken words, bottled up thoughts, and yet, we couldn’t get enough of each other. 

He stepped towards me, guiding me backwards, until my back was against the wall. His hands were still on my waist as we continued devouring each other like starved animals. Stopping to catch our breaths, his forehead rested against mine. Our eyes were both closed as our minds raced to catch up with what was happening between us. 

His forehead broke apart from mine so that he could take the chance to to look at my expression with those damned eyes of his. He pushed himself up towards me, pressing his erection against me, so that I could feel just how turned on he was through his pants. I gasped at the contact, and his jaw tightened in response, his eyes fluttering ever so slightly.

We both stayed like that for a bit, unsure of what to do next. Unsure if we should actually cross this forbidden line that our friendship had drawn long ago. But, neither of us made any move to stop, or leave.

I think, in that moment, he just wanted to forget that the world existed. To forget that we were friends. Forget that there was an arbitrary line that prevented us from being with each other. He wanted to forget about everything out there that he had no control over. I didn’t want to deny him of that freedom that comes with forgetting. 

He just needed to feel that I was real, that I was here for him, and I was. I would give him all my time in the world if it meant that he’d be okay. 

One of his hands drifted off my waist, and down towards my belly button, where he undid the button of my pants. He was staring me down with those amber eyes of his as he pulled down the zipper of my pants.

“Spencer,” my eyes fluttered closed in anticipation for what would come. His hand ghosted over my stomach, while his other hand was still on my waist, keeping me rooted in place. 

As his hand slid beneath the band of my pants, he began to place soft kisses along the bottom of my jaw. He could feel how wet I already was through my panties, which made him chuckle against my neck. He continued kissing me down my neck, toward my collarbone, while his hand slipped beneath my underwear. He kept teasing me, running his fingers up and down my slit, without actually doing anything, and my body started to respond with a mind of its own again. My hips began moving against his palm, grinding against his hand. But he pulled away as soon as I did this, and I almost whined at the loss of contact. 

His kisses against my neck got hungrier, and his hands found the waist of my pants. He pulled down my pants as he crouched down on his knees, kissing each of my calves as I stepped out of the legs of my pants. Once my legs were free, he threw my pants to the side, and traced his tongue along the inside of one of my legs, stopping when he reached the top of my thigh. His eyes looked back up at me before he turned to kiss the inner part of my thigh, right below my pussy. 

His kissed me hard enough to leave a hickey, and soon that kiss turned into sucking, which then turned into bitting. I had to fight to keep my hands away from his hair.

He pulled away to admire the work he’d done, and brought a finger up to my thigh, massaging the place he bit, as if he was trying to coax the bruise into existence right then and there before his eyes. Once he was satisfied with the mark he left, he placed one more gentle kiss in the same spot, before pulling my panties down to my knees. 

He went to work right away, eating me out, and his hands gripped the back of my thighs so tightly I knew there would be marks left there too. 

I lost that mental battle I had going on about where to put my hands, and they found their home among Spencer’s curls, gripping on for dear life as he continued to finish me off. I knew he had neighbors, but I couldn’t help the sound that ripped out from my throat when I came. 

I was a mess and I still wanted more. When Spencer stood back up, I could see the bulge that was tenting his pants. After he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand, our lips connected again, but more sloppily this time.

We tumbled into the bedroom, our bodies refusing to part from each other, with our mouths still lost deep in a kiss that made me dizzy. I began to rid myself of shirt, and Spencer removed his shirt and tie, while we made our way towards the bed. 

I wanted every bit of him and more. As he laid down on the bed, I crawled onto his lap, and he shifted to sit up, resting his back against the headboard. My hands drifted over his arms, taking my time, savoring it for as long as I could. As my hands trailed their way up to his shoulders, our foreheads came into contact with one another again. I felt a sigh against my face, and I could tell that he needed this as much as I needed him. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling my body in, closer towards his. 

He held me tighter as the kiss deepened, his fingers spreading across the span of my back, caressing every inch of me, memorizing every curve. He found the clasp of my bra, and the sudden breeze of cold air sent a shiver down my spine, which was only accentuated when he took each of my breasts into his hands, the sudden warmth of his palms sparking a fire in the pit of my belly. 

Our kiss became more passionate, the flame fueled by our movements. My moans were cut short by his tounge, and muffled by quiet moans of his own. My hands fell away from his hair at the sound, and down to his neck, before they began to trail downwards, over his chest and down to his stomach, where they began to work at the buckle of his belt. 

I slid off of his lap and onto the floor next to the bed, while he threw his legs over the side of the bed so that he could sit on the edge of the mattress. After working at the button of his pants, he helped me slide them off, along with his boxers, revealing to me just how ready he was. 

I sat up on my knees, leaning forward so that I could bring my mouth up to him while I rested my hands on his knees. I grabbed his shaft and guided him towards my lips, rubbing them across the tip so they’d be coated in his precum, before I enclosed my lips around the tip of his head. I glanced over to the side and saw his hands gripping the side of the bed. I kept my eyes on those hands when I started lowering myself further down on him, and I watched them as they tightened their grip on the sheets. I paused to look up at him, and his head was tilted back, eyes closed. If he looked this beautiful when I’d barely done anything, I wondered what he would look like when I finished him off. 

His eyes opened back up when I stopped moving, and he looked down to see me looking back up at him through doe eyes, with my mouth full. I heard him take in a sharp breath, and saw his hand hesitate in the corner of my eye as it lifted from the bed just to return to its position immediately after. That was my queue to continue, so as I began to slowly move back up his length, I grabbed one of his hands with mine, and brought it to rest on top of my head. He pet the top of my head gently at first. 

That was, until I began to hollow out my cheeks, at which his grip on my hair tightened. The way he tugged at my roots as his mouth fell open only encouraged me, and I began to pick up my pace, gagging on him every once in a while. 

I could tell he liked the feeling of me gagging on him by the way his grip on my hair would tighten, pulling at the roots ever so slightly. As he got closer to his end, I made sure to do it more often. But my endeavors were cut short. 

“I don’t want to finish there, come here.” He said as he pulled me off my knees by my hair with one hand, while grabbing my elbow with the other. He dragged me back onto the bed with him, and laid me on my back in one swift motion, while he immediately took his place right above me. 

“I’ve dreamt about you like this for a while.” In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never heard Spencer’s voice laced with so much desire. I didn’t know what to say back, but it didn’t matter, because as he ran his fingers up my slit again, all that came out of me was a pathetic whimper. 

“Just like this. At my fingertips.” He held up his hand, showing me just how wet I was for him still. He brought his fingers up to my mouth, and I gladly took them in, circling my tongue around each digit, much like I had done to other parts of him earlier. I could tell he was trying to control his breathing, while he watched me, the struggle evident on his face. 

“And now…” He pulled his fingers out of my mouth, replacing them with his lips instead, kissing me briefly before looking down between us, using his hand to line himself up with me. 

“…now, I have you.” With those words, he snapped his hips forward, entering me all at once, pushing all the air out of my lungs in the process. 

The feeling of him was so overwhelming, and I could barely think straight. My mind was flooded with endorphins as we were intertwined as one. The thought alone was bliss in itself, but being _here_ , with him, while it was real, was pure ecstasy. And I never wanted it to end. 

I would have given him my whole heart, if it meant he’d lend me his just for the night. 

My hands cupped his cheek, pulling him back down to me, and his lips embraced mine in a kiss that was so passionate that my mind flew to another place as the breath was stolen from my lungs. He adjusted his hips, getting used to the feeling of me wrapped around him, before he began to set a tantalizing slow pace. But, I wanted more.

I dragged my hands along his back while deepening the kiss, trying to convey to him that I somehow needed more. His thrusts gained speed, and he broke away from the kiss, dropping his head by my side, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I tried to angle myself to allow him better access, but his hands held me down in place with a bruising grip. He continued to plow into me, and I could feel his stifled moans against my neck, which in turn elicited moans of my own. 

I was so close, and I think he could tell, because right when I was on the edge, he repositioned his arms so that he could prop himself up and look me in the eyes again, watching me as I was about to come undone right in front of him. 

I tried to stare back through lidded eyes of my own, but that look of his was enough to send me over the edge, and my eyes snapped shut against my will. Not long after, he was cumming right along with me, my back arching as I felt him spill into me. I wanted to open my eyes just briefly to finally see what Spencer Reid looked like when he came, a sight I had imagined for so long, but I was too lost in all of it, and my eyelids were too heavy. It would be a sight that would have to remain tucked away in my imagination for now. 

I didn’t open my eyes until he had already pulled out, and was lying next to me, our limbs still wanting to hold on to the other for as long as possible. We both looked towards the ceiling, as our heart rates slowed and our breaths returned to normal. His fingers found my arm and traced patterns into my skin. The softest of lines writing silent messages along my arms and back, communicating to me everything that words couldn’t, spilling the rest of his secrets to me, skin to skin. 

We lay there, both overcome with an ecstasy-induced exhaustion - a much more welcome kind of exhaustion - with our limbs still entangled, while we watch the wine-stained dawn approach us. I feared what the morning would bring when it finally arrived, and what it would mean. 

There is nothing I wouldn’t give if it meant that I could spend just one more night with him like this, tangled in the sheets, a mess of limbs, stuck in a world that was just ours. 

The way Spencer made me feel was incomparable. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. And I wondered if he had felt the same way, or if maybe my thoughts were just clouded by a post-bliss high, and my feelings were just chemically induced. A by-product of pent up feelings finally being released after years of straining to keep them in check. 

Either way, it didn’t matter. Because right now, he was mine. 


	2. Garden Eyes

**_Spencer’s POV_ **

Life is never like it is on the silver screens. Experience has taught me all too well of the truth behind this statement. I have also likewise learned that most good things will always come to an end. Whether that end be sooner or later, it doesn’t matter. It’s inevitable.

All this, I have learned, and have had time to reflect upon. In fact, I have come to terms with these truths very early on in life, much quicker than most others would have. But nothing, no amount of experience, could have prepared me for how quickly I’d lose my best friend. 

I slept with my best friend. With (Y/n). 

I slept with (Y/n). 

And the worst part was that I didn’t even get to see her wake up the next morning. We’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, but Life put an end to that before I could even begin to fully appreciate her embrace. What I wouldn’t give to hold her like that again. 

Around the early hours of the morning, my cell rang. I had a case. (Y/n) was still sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake her. So, I got up as quietly as I could, packed my go bag, and left. 

I left, and I killed my heaven.

It had felt like our end had come barreling down towards us prematurely. Like there had been a train tunneling down its track, and we were just a couple of blind pedestrians who accidentally got in the way. Just a couple of pedestrians that crossed the tracks at the wrong time on that one fateful night. Two poor, blind pedestrians who never saw it coming. We were in a temporary heaven until that moment of impact, when the collision pulled us back down to earth. Back down to reality. 

That’s where I was headed now. Back down to earth, back down to the remnants of my reality. I looked out the window, and I could see the ground approaching as the jet neared the runway. I kept staring out the window, watching as the ground grew closer and closer while the impending gravity of my situation began to weigh down on me. 

Eventually I’d have to own up to my own reality. And as much as I’d rather put it off for as long as I could, my brain just wouldn’t let me. Images from that night kept dancing around in my head, and with every image that flashed before me, I’d be reminded of the disaster that had followed it. 

Maybe disaster is a strong word, but that’s what it felt like. It felt like a disaster. I hadn’t heard from (Y/n) since that night, and I was afraid that she’d never forgive me for crossing a line that I should have never crossed in the first place. 

This disaster was killing me from the inside out. I was slowly being drained of all of my energy, and the more I thought about everything, the more I tired I felt. 

I always felt drained like this after cases. Perhaps drained isn’t the right word. Exhausted maybe. Who knows? I just knew that whatever poisonous emotion it was that I felt after these cases would always go away after a car ride with (Y/n). And now I didn’t even have that to look forward to anymore. I threw that out the night I had slept with my best friend. 

I threw out my only solace for a chance to hold heaven in my arms. And how blissful it was. How inconsolably tragic. My heaven had left me that same night, and I haven’t seen it since. 

And the funny thing is, if given the second chance, I’d make the same mistake all over again. I’d jump in front of the train even if it meant that I’d kill my piece of heaven. And I don’t know why.

I just would. 

And it’s not that we weren’t close enough friends to begin with. She was the closest friend I had, and I was hers. That’s why it hurt so much. I just wanted her back. 

You know, this whole ordeal would have never happened had she not invited herself into my apartment that night. What was she even doing there? I had made it perfectly clear that I didn’t want to talk, and she just walked right in and kept pushing me anyways. I’m not the only one at fault here. She contributed too. 

Ughhhh, what am I thinking? She’s not even here and she’s already pulling on the strings of my sanity. I don’t know why I was scolding her. I knew I was just as guilty too. _I_ was the one who opened this can of worms to begin with. All she was trying to do was help. She was only guilty of being a good friend. 

In the end, I was the one at fault. I was the one who initiated it. _I_ was the one who kissed her first. I didn’t have to, but I did.

And I could’ve stopped but I didn’t. The worst thing was that there was a small, minuscule part of me that was glad that I hadn’t stopped, and glad that she reciprocated. She could’ve walked out and left. But she didn’t. 

Maybe she didn’t leave because she felt obligated. Obligated to comfort a friend in need. God, I hope that’s not why she stayed. 

_No…_ Is that why she’s not calling? It’s been almost a week, and I haven’t heard from her since that night… 

No, it couldn’t be why. Could it? Maybe my leaving had something to do with it. Maybe she thought… But, I couldn’t help that, I had a case. She’d understand, right? Of course she would. Unless… This was too taxing for me. Whatever _this_ was, I just wanted it to go away so that I could be set free from all of the gravity that it was causing.

When the jet finally landed, it was time for me to own up to my own reality. I grabbed my things from my desk, and headed home, alone. No car ride this time. I didn’t even bother calling her. I just wanted to go home, shut down, and go to sleep. If I even could go to sleep. At this point, it was questionable. 

I thought that the walk home would help me clear my head, but I was mistaken. It only served as more time for me to overthink about how badly I had fucked everything up.

I kept trying to rationalize that night away, but I couldn’t. I guess I had just been searching for something to fill that void for so long, that when I had finally felt her face rest against my chest I thought that I had found it. That I had found my silver-screen ending. My picture perfect moment. 

The lens on my camera must have been broken. 

If it was so picture perfect, then why was it that I felt so awful afterwards? I _still_ feel awful. I just couldn’t rid myself of that unexplainable heartache that I was feeling.

All those poisonous feelings, guilt, regret, nostalgia, heartache, remorse, were all lined up in a row right in front of me. My own personal poisons. And yet, despite all these feelings, my weak mind couldn’t help but wander back to her. And every time my thoughts would tangle themselves with images of her, I could feel those same feelings of regret resurfacing. It was pulling me apart inside, tugging on the strings of my sanity. And I didn’t know which string it was that I needed to cut in order to prevent myself from being unraveled completely. 

Why did I think it was a good idea to walk home? 

By the time I got to my building, I was so exhausted that I contemplated just sleeping at the bottom of the stairwell and using my go bag as a pillow. But, when I got to the top of the stairs, I could see (Y/n) sitting outside the door to my apartment. 

“What are you doing here?” I tried to hide my smile, because I didn’t know if it was appropriate to smile in this type of situation. It was one of those awkward types, where you don’t really know where the other one stands in terms of being okay with your presence. But, she had came here herself, so it had to be okay. 

“Well, I was going to call, but I didn’t really know what to say… So, I thought that if I saw you in person, maybe I’d know what to say, but…. I still don’t know.“ She explained, while she stretched to stand up. 

I waited patiently for her to find the right words, but we were stuck in an unfamiliar silence. She kept glancing towards the stairs behind me, and I knew she was thinking about leaving. But, her voice pulled my attention away from the stairs. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t called since…” Her voice died off at the end, like she didn’t want to admit the disaster that she took part in. 

“Don’t be. I should’ve reached out… or something. I only left because I had a case.”

“Yeah, I figured that’s where you went.”

After she said this, another perpetual silence threatened to take over, but she turned to leave before it could.

“Wait.” One last attempt to mend what was already broken. “Do you um…. maybe want coffee? You look… tired. I mean, you like you’ve been waiting here for a while.” She looked like she’d been waiting there for at least a couple hours. The least I could do was invite her in this time. 

“Yeah, okay.” She stepped inside, and here we were, throwing out everything again, unknowingly contributing to the development of this horrid cycle between us. 

I think deep down inside, we both knew we were just using each other as a remedy. Or, at least I knew. I’d give her the benefit of the doubt. I don’t think (Y/n) was capable of that. Of using someone like that. But, I was. And she deserved better than that. I was just selfish. 

Selfish enough that I’d gladly drink each and every one of those poisons if it meant that I could be with her again. I don’t care about breaking whatever cycle this was, I just wanted her.

We sat down at the table, each with a cup of coffee between our hands and an invisible barrier between our chairs. Every time one of us would try to glance at the other, we would look away in hopes of avoiding conversation. We knew that if we started talking we’d have to address the elephant in the room, and I don’t think either of us was ready for that yet. 

So, we just sat there, looking down at our cups of coffee, taking turns stealing glances at the other, and occasionally smiling whenever we both managed to catch the other’s gaze for more than two seconds. 

We went on like this until we had both emptied our mugs, and even then, we continued like that until the sky turned dark. It was getting late. 

Is this what our relationship was going to be like from now on? Just existing for the sake of decency, not ever being able to talk like we used to? What would even be the point then? How could I go on pretending like this when I knew I was the cause of all of this? 

The longer I sat there, the more I feared the moment when my heaven would leave me again. And I feared that if it left this time that it wouldn’t return. Why would it? You don’t get a second chance twice. If I was going to say something, I has to be now. Now, before she leaves. The thought of all of this was bubbling up in my chest, and was starting to make its way into my throat, and I didn’t know what to do to get rid of it.

I didn’t want her like this. I wanted the old (Y/n) back. I wanted the (Y/n) who I could come home and relax with after a long, and taxing case, or go for car rides with. The (Y/n) whose smile would make me forget about all the violence out there in the world. The (Y/n) who would laugh with such a passion that you could see it in her eyes. Who I could communicate with through facial expressions alone. Who I could tease for her god-awful taste in music, and surprise her with her disgusting black, sugar-less coffee whenever she needed it most. 

The (Y/n) who was my friend. 

I broke the silence.

“You don’t have to rescue me, you know?”

“What?” She turned to face me, her hair bouncing on her shoulders when she did so. I don’t think she expected me to talk, but I couldn’t stay silent for any longer.

“If that’s what you were doing. The other day…. The things I’ve seen, you know, on cases… if you were trying to help me forget about them…. If - If you felt… somehow obligated to -”

“Spencer…. That’s not why.” I didn’t even have enough courage to look at her anymore. I just kept staring down at my hands and my shoes, sometimes alternating my gaze towards the ground too. 

When she walked over to where I was sitting, and placed her hands on my shoulders, my eyes looked away from the floor, and they slowly made their way up to her face. I couldn’t tell what she was feeling. There was an emotion behind her eyes that I hadn’t ever seen written on her face before, and I couldn’t tell how I felt about its presence. It was a look that was too unfamiliar for me to place. 

She stepped in closer to me so that she had one leg positioned on each side of my thigh. My eyes followed my hands as they slowly found her hips, and I guided her so that she could straddle over me more comfortably. She was hesitant to sit down, but when she finally did, it was like a weight was lifted from my chest, and I could breathe a bit easier now that she was here. 

My hands trailed up from her hips to her waist as my eyes took her in. I didn’t really have a chance to look at her like this before I kissed her last time; I was just so lost in the spontaneity of the moment. But this time was slower. 

My eyes trailed over every detail of her face, except her eyes. I was scared that if I looked into (Y/n)’s eyes then whatever wave of recklessness was upon us would dissipate. And I didn’t want it to end yet. I wanted to keep the spell lasting as long as I could. 

As I leaned in to kiss her, my hands moved to the small of her back and I tugged her closer to me, so that I could feel her body rest itself against mine. I didn’t have to take any time to get used to her. It was like my lips had found their home against hers. I could feel her relaxing into me, so I slipped my tongue into her mouth, to which she responded by tightening her grip on my hair. I loved it when she did that. 

As I deepened the kiss, I could feel her pressing herself into my chest, trying to get closer to me and close any remaining space between us. Her breasts pressed up against my chest, and I could feel the hardness of her nipples beneath her shirt. The pressure of her against my chest like that was _really_ starting to get to me. 

I brought one of my hands underneath the seam of her shirt, and I trailed my fingers up her side slowly, caressing her skin, drawing circles around her ribcage and causing goosebumps to form. My other hand hooked underneath her thigh, and dragged her up closer to me. She was practically sitting backwards in the chair, if it wasn’t for me underneath her. With her thighs on either side of my hips, I brought my hands back down to her hips, and positioned her so that she could feel just how turned on I was. 

I think I felt her smirk against me, but I was too lost in the moment to care about that. She started moving her hips, rolling them against me, and my hands instinctively started to move along with them, guiding her as she grinded on top of me. Each time she did, the friction sent a radiation of warmth throughout me, and it began to build up inside me, making me feel uncomfortably trapped in my pants. 

I tried to reposition her so that she wouldn’t be as close, hoping that would at least give me some room to move, but her hand came up to my chest, and pushed me back against the chair, which only turned me on even more. I didn’t think it was possible before, but now our bodies were even closer than we were before. 

She continued in her movements as I began to leave a trail of hickeys down her neck and across her collar bones, painting her worth across her skin with each mark I left behind. Sometimes I wondered if she knew just how beautiful she was. How could she not? If I were to paint her entire worth in words across her skin, would she know? Would she know how breathtaking she was? Would she know that I loved her?

Because I did. I loved her. 

…I loved her. 

_Shit_. I love her?

Oh shit, I do. 

Why did I have to choose this exact moment to come to this revelation? Apparently my brain didn’t get the memo, and my whole body froze in response. _Fuck_. (Y/n) was still grinding on me, and I was just sitting there, frozen in my thoughts. I couldn’t think straight anymore. I was too caught up in this giant mess of a web that were my thoughts, and I didn’t know what to do.

So, I didn’t do anything. That ended up being worse than quite possibly anything I could’ve done.

“Spencer?” Too late. She knew. She knew my mind is somewhere else. I don’t know how, but she knew. She knew I was starting to get uncomfortable, and I feared that she learned that by reading my thoughts rather than my actions. 

I could feel her shift her weight as she sat to lean back, waiting for… something. I wasn’t sure what, my eyes were closed. And I didn’t want to open them. If I did then she’d be able to read it an instant. She’d see that I was in love with her, and I wasn’t ready for the implications of all of that. 

No, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. If I did, then it’d be real. It would become real, and then that would mean that there would be a chance that I’d end up wrecking it. I mean, for crying out loud, everything was fine before I went and wrecked our friendship. I couldn’t wreck this now too. I had to put an end to it before it had a chance to develop any further. I’d rather screw things up now, before either of us get too attached, so that it wouldn’t hurt us as much. 

“Spencer.” Oh no. Her tone is changing. I can’t tell what, but there’s an inflection in the way she said my name just now, and it sounds almost like….

“Spencer, open your eyes.” Frustration. Yeup, that’s what that sound was. It was hard to identify at first because even when she was frustrated her voice sounded so soft. 

“I’m not doing this because I feel obligated, Spencer. I’m sorry if it feels that way to you.” I opened my eyes as soon as I felt her slip off my lap, and I saw her readjusting her clothes in what was an unmistakably frustrated, and almost angry, manner. 

“No, I never said that!” 

“Okay, then what?” She looked me dead in the eyes, but she couldn’t see it. She wanted me to explain and I just couldn’t. The words weren’t there. I don’t know where they went, but wherever they went I couldn’t find them. And I couldn’t think of anything else to say instead. 

“I um….” Again, though this time by default, I ended up choosing to do nothing. 

“I should go…. “ Scoffing, she walked around the table, and started gathering her things, 

“(Y/n), wait.” I didn’t know how to stop it. She was moving too fast, and my eyes couldn’t keep up with her movements. Before I knew it, she was opening the door, and that warm feeling started to bubble up in my throat again, melting away any words that were still stuck there. 

“Thanks for the coffee.”

“(Y/n).” 

That was it. She closed the door and left, and took my heaven and all of it’s warmth with her. Not even five minutes passed and I was already missing it. 

But, It wasn’t just the warmth that I missed. It was her.

Her face, her smile, her laughter… her presence. 

I just missed _her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr: @Caffeinated-Thoughts


	3. Love Took The Last of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer tries to save what he fears is already lost.

_**Spencer’s POV** _

I went after her. 

Of course I did. How could I not? 

When she left, I could feel the emptiness she left behind, and I didn’t want to feel that anymore. I don’t think I’ve ever missed someone so much in such a short amount of time. And we had only been apart for about five minutes, give or take the handful of seconds it took for me to realize what had just happened. The fact was I missed her. That had to mean something. It had to count for _something_.

Right?

Well, when I got outside, her car was already gone and it was like I could feel a string already beginning to wrap around my brain. 

I pulled out my phone, and called a taxi. I knew where she was going, and I wasn’t going to let her get away this time. Last time I stayed silent, and when I left we ended up not talking to each other for a week. I wouldn’t be able to stand that radio-silence again. I couldn’t handle not talking to her ever again. Just the thought alone was unbearable. 

I was crawling circles in my skin by the time the taxi had finally arrived. The poor driver having to deal with people like me at this late hour of the night, I left sorry for him. I climbed in and offered to pay him double if he could get me there in half the time. I sat back, wringing out my hands, trying to think about anything that would calm me down. 

But, no matter what I thought about, my anxiety didn’t still once during that entire drive. That string around my brain felt like it just kept getting tighter.

That car ride was anything but calming. The other cars, and people, and couples we passed by were just distorted background static to me. They filled the space, but they couldn’t provide me with any peace. Neither could the driver’s attempts at small talk. All anything did was remind just how empty I was feeling. It was like the universe was trying to rub salt into these fresh wounds that Fortune had carved out in my heart, and in doing so, all the events that had brought me up to this point began to accumulate and form a dagger, carving out new wounds in me each time I recalled them. 

And the emptiness that had filled those wounds tugged harder at those strings in my brain again. 

Every second I spent in that car, I began to feel that emptiness grow. Every turn we took, and every pothole we passed over, I feared that she was already too far gone. That everything I had done was irreparable. I feared that there would be nothing more that I could do to save her. 

Or that there was nothing that I could to save _myself_ from this ever growing emptiness that I was feeling. 

Each time I looked out the window, I couldn’t stop thinking about how mad she would be. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was so close to having everything I had ever wanted, only to have my feelings get in the way and fuck things up again. 

We had driven to the bridge. The same bridge (Y/n) and I would drive by after cases. Before I ruined everything. As we passed over the bridge, the dichotomy of the two situations that presented themselves were not lost on me. This bridge that was once a quiet place of solitude, a place that we would go to forget about all of our worries, now was so eerie and devoid of hope that I could barely even recognize it as the same place. 

By the time we reached the middle of the bridge, I could see (Y/n)’s car pulled over on the side, and I tried sitting forward to see if I could get a better look at her. When I saw her leaning against the side of her car, I unbuckled my seatbelt and practically yelled at the driver to stop. 

“...You want me to drop you off in the middle of a bridge? You okay man?”

“Fine. Thank you.” I handed him the money through the glass barrier, and threw the backdoor open. 

He kept talking to me, but after I had spotted (Y/n) half of my senses stopped working. I saw her leaning against the hood of her car, looking over the edge of the bridge out into the water, up towards the sky where the lights of the bridge meet the horizon.

Even though I had gotten out of that taxi as quickly as I could, it seemed like the rest of my remaining senses stopped working too. I could barely bring myself to walk over to her. After the taxi left, other cars started to pass by me at normal speed, and the drag force of the cars cut through the air behind me, making me realize that I was basically standing right on the edge of the road. My legs were back to working again after that, and I approached her slowly, my hands in my pockets, akin to a dog with his tail tucked in between his legs. 

She didn’t look at me right away, she just sighed when I had gotten close enough. “How’d you know I’d be here?” 

“You’ve always liked stars.” The lights. We’d always joke about how the lights that lined the bridge were our personal stars. The memory warmed a part of me that I hadn’t realized I’d let grow cold in the first place. It was like a new flame of hope flickered somewhere deep within me, and I’ll I wanted to do was to wrap my hands around that small little flame to protect it from any stray gusts of wind that would threaten to snuff it out. 

“They aren’t stars Spencer. They’re just lights.” She was facing me, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring down at the ground towards our feet. Towards where a stray few tears had already fallen.

The sound of her crying wasn’t just a gust of wind. It was like a fucking hurricane. That small flame died out at the sound of her sniffling, and there was nothing left for my hands to protect. It was like there was nothing left to do but to break my fingers just so I could point all the blame back at me. 

“They’re stars to us.” I ducked my head down to meet her gaze, but all I saw was a vacant expression. She looked like she was more than tired. And the fact that I couldn’t place that feeling when I had been so familiar and well acquainted with it, is what still kills me to this very day. 

Oh, what I wouldn’t give for her to be mad instead. I could handle that. The anger. I _know_ how to handle that. But this? This apathy. This emptiness? I had no fucking clue how to handle any of it. 

Anger, bitterness, rage, even furry, would've been more preferable than the state I had found her in now. A state of emptiness. 

A state that was very much like my own. 

Her eyes were staring out, far over the horizon line, but her mind had been taken somewhere else. And with every crash of the waves, and the sound of the water lapping beneath us, it felt like she was being carried away farther from me, like she was drifting out to sea. 

She was right here, standing next to me, but I’ve never felt more alone. Or more abandoned. I suppose the ocean is cruel like that. That those same beautiful hues of blues, and grays, and greens could be treacherous enough to carry my love away from me, leaving the salt of each crashing wave to sting these open wounds that had been left in my heart. 

The deafening silence was almost unbearable. I could hear the sound of the cars behind us which were interrupted by an occasional sniffle coming from (Y/n). I could hear the crashing of the waves below us, each roar of the ocean reminding me of all the pleasant memories this bridge had held for us. Now their recollection felt like the sting of salt rubbed into fresh wounds. And with every sniffle I heard, every wave that crashed, and every car that went by, it was like more wounds, older wounds, were opening up all over again just for more salt to be rubbed back into them again, leaving me to bleed. 

When she finally said something, I didn’t even recognize her voice at first, it sounded so distant. 

“I still don't really know what to say.”

I guess we were the same in that manner. I didn’t know what to say either. I had no fucking idea. I knew this whole goddamned mess was my fault, but I never said as much. Maybe if I had, things would've turned out differently. 

I loved her and couldn’t even bring myself to tell her that. 

Fuck, I still love her.

So why couldn’t I say the stupid words? Again, I had no fucking idea. I spent perhaps about twenty minutes trying to talk myself into just coming out and saying it. Twenty minutes of counting down from three over and over in my head. But every time the count ended, I chickened out. And I stayed silent, letting the sound of those waves fill the air between us.

I suppose my lack of words at times like this will forever be my hamartia. 

Or, perhaps it was never really meant to be. Her hand in mine.

Maybe on some subconscious level, on some minuscule part of my brain, I knew deep down that I wasn’t good enough for her. I wouldn't have enough to give. I probably wouldn't ever have enough to give. And she deserved someone who could give her the whole world. Perhaps, I knew it this whole time, from the very beginning. And that’s why we were only friends this whole time. I knew it from the start that the moment we crossed that line, everything would fall apart.

And there we were. At the point where I had come to realize that her heart was never really mine. It was always beating. I just wasn't the one who was meant to keep it. She was only mine for a night. That was it. At the time, I suppose it was what I needed for a stable mind. But I don't think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for crossing that line that night.

When she looked back up at me, all of the background noise faded. 

I tentatively reached a hand out to her, and I pulled her in close to me. The way her body instantly melded into mine was enough to silence any and all of the emptiness I was feeling. I could feel her shoulders slouch and relax into me as she breathed out, and I pressed my face onto the top of her head in response. And it was then that it hit me again how much I had missed her.

_I missed (Y/n)._

She was right fucking next to me, in my arms for crying out loud, and I _missed_ her. 

This whole fucked up situation felt like a wet jacket that was stuck to my skin. And what I wouldn’t give to just peel this whole ordeal off of me.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m meant for this. Whatever _this_ is. This type of relationship. This type of friendship, if I could even call it that anymore. For crying out loud, I didn’t even know what _this_ was really. It seemed like to say we were friends was even a stretch now. With every passing second, she seemed to be slipping further and further away from me. And I couldn’t help but feel like the entire thing was my fault. 

What I wouldn’t give to go back and change how that night happened. I’d do anything to get her back. I’d take the blame for this whole fucking mess if it meant she would just come back to me. 

I just needed one more night. One more night where I could fall asleep in her arms, and wake up to her the next day. I had thought that if I had just one more night with her, then we could be how we were that day. We could be how we were meant to be. 

I just needed one more night.

“(Y/n)?...” I felt her hum into my chest, and I continued. “It’s pretty cold out. Could we maybe sit in the car?”

And so that’s how we ended up sitting in the back of her car, in the middle of the bridge, just the two of us, so late at night that time was already pushing into the next day. 

Once we had both situated ourselves in the back seat, we just turned towards each other, as if to pick up from an interrupted conversation. But no words were spoken. Only looks between us were exchanged, and the sight in front of me was no less breathtaking than any of the other times I had seen her before. 

The night light poured in from the window, illuminating the face of the angel in front of me. She could have been an image right out of a Carvaggio painting, the light hit her so perfectly. 

I just wanted to try to forget about any and all possible distractions. Because in this moment, nothing else mattered. Nothing but me and her. 

I brought my hand up to her cheek, where I could feel the stains of dried tears, and I brushed the hair out of her eyes, revealing her face to me fully. 

She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch with a sigh, and I could almost feel the worry roll off my shoulders. 

I brought my forehead to hers, and breathed a similar sigh of relief. A sigh of contentment. My eyes were closed, but I could have sworn that I could feel a smile ghost over face. And I answered it with a smile of my own. A smile that carried all that I could not say. 

I brought my other hand up to one of her shoulders, and let the hand resting on her cheek drop down to her other shoulder. I could feel the tensions slipping away from her, underneath my palms, as my hands gilded over her arms, down to her wrists, and hands, until my hand found her fingers, surrounding them gently in my own, cradling her hands in mine. 

Every single irrelevant thought of mine drifted away as she slowly, but surely drifted towards me. I was consumed by warm by just being in her presence alone. And I let that warmth engulf my entire being. 

I pulled away from her to see that her eyes were still closed. But when she felt that I had sat back, she opened her eyes, and I caught sight of her lips. 

Those irresistible lips.

I brought one of my hands back up to her face, cupping her jaw, while my thumb ghosted over her lower lip. When I looked back up at her, she was starting at me with those big doe eyes of hers, and her pupils were blown out, despite the fact that there was light coming in from the window. My eyes were already beginning to feel heavy, as if just one touch from her had intoxicated me to the fullest.

I leaned in and kissed her. My lips took the place of my thumb, as my hand fell back to the side of her face once again. I devoured her, and she let me. 

My other hand was still in her lap, cradling her hands in my palm. I let go of her hands and instead rested my hand against her thigh. I could feel how her entire body began to slowly welcome me as my hand traveled up her leg. Every muscle my hands gilded over relaxed all at once in the wake of my touch. 

I could feel her warm breath against my ears, which were still tingling with the cold of the night’s air. I could hear her quiet unspoken moans, that were nothing but heavy breaths, still trapped in her lungs, like butterflies circling in her chest, flapping their wings against the walls of her heart, desperate for an escape. 

I could feel her heart beating faster along with my own as she started to spread her legs open a bit wider, making room for me, inviting me to fuck her. 

My hand began to ghost over the waistband of her panties, and I could feel her body quiver with lust from underneath me. She was aching to be touched. So, I obliged. 

I slipped my hands down into her waistband, and let my fingers slide over the lips of her pussy while I continued to devour her face and neck with kisses. I found her clit and began to caress it, making slow strokes around it. Every circle made her wetter, and I was all the more turned on by her reactions. 

I started to leave more passionate kisses along her neck, ones that would surely leave a mark or two. As I began to slip my finger inside her, I bit down harder right below her ear, and her entire body arched into me. 

I could have gone on, pleasuring her like that for the rest of the night, but every spellbound moment has its end.

Including this one.

“Spencer, wait.” Her breaths came out heavy, and she placed her hands on my shoulders to still me. I immediately sat back and withdrew my hands. 

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, but...“ She was hesitating. 

“What?”

“Just….You can't just fix something by doing that. Kissing me doesn't just suddenly make everything go away.”

_Oh._

That string that was wrapped around my brain felt like it was about to snap. But it didn’t just yet. For now, it remained as it was, keeping all my secrets bound up with a tight grip controlling all of my thoughts. 

“No! That’s not what I was trying to do.” 

“Okay, then what? What is this?” 

“I just… I…”

Again. 

The words escaped me. 

“I think… I think you should go.” 

“What?”

“I can’t…. Just - I think you should go.”

“(Y/n).” 

“No, Spencer look. I get it okay? Just please. Leave.”

“What do you get? Explain it to me. Because I barely even get it myself.”

“I get what this is to you. Okay? I get that this is just a physical thing, and- and that had started as just a way for you to forget about everything and relieve some stress, but… I can’t do that anymore, okay? I just… I think it would be better if you left.” 

The string had finally snapped. And I think my heart had broken at the same time too. 

I wanted to reason with her. To talk it out. To at least try to talk it out. Because she couldn’t have possibly been more far off from the truth.

“(Y/n) - ” 

“Reid. I’m asking you to get out. I won’t say it again.”

I took one last look at her, but her eyes refused to met mine. Instead they were glued to the window next to us. And started to make my way out of the car, and she climbed over the center console into the driver’s seat. 

When I got out and closed the door, she started up the car, and drove off. Leaving me there, all alone with no more good left to give, and with a pile of blame laid out at my feet. 

I was left standing there in the middle of the bridge, listening to the jeers of the sea mocking me once again. It felt like Artemis had come down from above and handed (Y/n) the bow herself, allowing her to take aim and take all of the better parts of me, sinking them into the sea with every arrow, so they could rest with all the dead that had gone before us, never to be seen again.

I knew then, as I do now, that it was entirely my fault. It was my fault for remaining silent when the whole time, I could have just came out and said how I felt about her. Instead, I covered all my reasons for not doing so in lies. All the reasons why I wanted her, why I needed her. I kept them hidden in disguise, and in the end, all those secrets just ended up cutting me deeper than I could have imagined possible. 

I guess that's the thing about being a profiler. You know how to read people. You know how to manipulate them, how to build them up and tear them down. I knew exactly what to tell her. I knew how to get what I wanted from her. And I knew how to talk my way into a place where I thought I would feel safer.

And that’s what I had done.

And after all the emotions simmered down, I was left chasing after a lost cause that I’d never win. I had been holding onto my flaws for so long, and once that string around my brain had snapped, (Y/n) was caught in the whiplash of it. 

But, I had never meant to cause her any harm. 

She drove off with my heart that night, and love had taken the last of any good I had left in me. 

\--------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while! I was actually torn on how to end this one, so there’s going to be one more part after this. This one’s based off of “Love Took The Last of It” by Movements.
> 
> My Tumblr: Caffeinated-Thoughts


End file.
